Castles In The Sky
by Princess Sammi
Summary: 'It was always the same. She dreamt of a castle ...'


**Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Worst Witch' and the lyrics at the start belong to Ian Van Dahl 'Castles In The Sky.'**

**A/N: Hey folks :) Just a little one-shot that came into my head the other day. A few weeks ago I had a nostalgic music session and re-discovered my love for this song as, say what you will but back in 2001 it was a tune! (I've also discovered that I still know all the words to Hear'Say 'Pure and Simple', but I can't quite decide if I'm ashamed or proud of that ; ))**

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_**********A/N - Edited 2013- song lyrics removed. I've worried for some time about copyright laws and have thus made the decision to remove the lyrics from any writing I have done. :)**_

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_**********Castles In The Sky**_

It was always the same.

She dreamt of a castle somewhere far off in the distance. Its lofty turrets an impressive height, it stood tall and proud on top of a mountain. Its view was almost obstructed by the trees of the forest, their greenery overflowing as they stood to attention; like army soldiers ready to protect it and its inhabitants from any impending dangers.

Sometimes the image was vivid, appearing so real she could almost touch it; feel the roughness of the stone walls brush against her fingertips. Other times it was blurred: the image still there, but not fully clear. No matter how hard she tried to read the sign on the castle, the image would always dissipate into nothing before she had the chance.

She had no idea why every night her mind brought her there: to that castle. Was there significance? Or was she merely just trying to cling onto some semblance of life? Maintain some morsel of control that she could still exercise over her own mind, a way of escaping the clutches of her tyrannical tutor.

There was something about the place; something that kept drawing her back, like a moth being drawn to a flame. When she visited it in her dreams, she felt safe; she felt part of it, like she belonged. Almost like it was where she was meant to be.

It reminded her of the sort of castle she'd read about in books when she was younger, when her mother had read her fairytale after fairytale; mystical adventures of princesses, and princes and evils in the world. Of course she knew it wasn't a fairy castle, having long grown out of believing in that age-old fairytale where the princess is rescued from the tallest tower by the handsome prince, but not before the prince slays the dragon, and then they all live happily ever after. She may have been locked in the tower, or the dungeon maybe being the more appropriate word to use, but there was no defeating Heckitty Broomhead and there was no handsome prince coming to rescue her, even if she did have hair as long as Rapunzel.

No, there was no happily ever after and she'd accepted that; resigned to her fate a long time ago.

Sitting at the small dressing table in her room she brushed her long dark hair out, the curls cascaded down her back like an inky waterfall; the light of the sun streaming through the window only adding to its glossy sheen, before plaiting it and twisting it into its customary bun: presentation was everything in the eyes of Mistress Heckitty Broomhead, not even a hair was allowed to be out of place; it had been one of the first lessons she had learned, the minute she had crossed the threshold; stepping beyond the gates and into the grounds of Witch Training College, or hell as it was known.

The past four years had been the bleakest of her life, they had changed her dramatically; she'd had no choice in the matter. No longer the care-free Connie whose brown eyes sparkled intently at everything in life; wide-eyed and full of wonderment at the world around her.

She couldn't dwell on it though, it couldn't be undone; it was in the past, and now she had to look towards the future. She was graduating from WTC, and would finally be free from the watchful eye of her tutor.

She had no idea what she was going to do with her life; she didn't have a plan; she didn't have a position to go to, and she didn't have any references- having told Mistress Broomhead that she wasn't going to do all the great things her tutor had planned for her; to use her powers for evil and make her tutor rich, Heckitty had refused to give them to her, though she did deliver a parting gift. As she slide the final clasp into her hair to keep her bun perfectly in place she couldn't help but wince at the spasm of pain that rippled through her still tender ribs …

XxX

An old wooden bench stood in the courtyard of the college grounds; it was a place she had sat many times over the years, alone with her thoughts, enjoying what little free time she was granted away from her studies. Taking a seat for one final time she momentarily closed her eyes, feeling the waft of the gentle breeze in the air as it rippled like the waves of an ocean. She'd always loved the elements of nature- there was something so unpredictable and raw about them; no one or nothing could control Mother Nature.

She was so content basking in the quiet of the atmosphere around her, her mind drifting, that she was startled when a voice broke through her thoughts, drawing her out of her reverie.

"Excuse me dear. Is this seat taken?"

Opening her eyes and blinking slightly against the intensity of the sun she came face to face with a woman of about forty years old; tinges of grey were already starting to appear in her short hair, she wore horn-rimmed glasses which were perched on the bridge of her nose.

Offering a friendly smile the woman gestured to the vacant seat beside her, indicating she was still awaiting an answer. Clearing her throat she gave a small smile "No please" she said as she waved a hand at the empty spot, taking this as her cue the woman sat down next to her and a silence filled the air. She didn't mind the silence; she found it comforting, plus she'd never been very good at breaking the ice with people, it wasn't in her nature, and after 'hello' she was usually stuck for what to say next.

"I'm Amelia Cackle" the woman said as she held out her hand, staring ahead for a minute she turned and shook the outstretched hand "Constance Hardbroom."

"Pleased to meet you Constance"

Amelia couldn't help but stare at the woman next to her, she was incredibly beautiful: well-sculpted cheekbones; deep brown eyes framed by long dark eyelashes; porcelain skin that served as the perfect complement to her dark hair, it was tied up elegantly in a tight bun but she could tell that when unleashed it was probably very long, she was wearing a long black dress which almost covered her thin frame entirely, but it was none of those things, it was something else about her; the aura she was emitting was incredibly strong so she could tell she was obviously a very powerful witch; she didn't know why, but she couldn't walk away from this.

"Are you graduating?" she inquired

Giving a polite nod she turned her attention back to staring into the distance. There was such warmth coming from the woman next to her; who emanated a kindness she had been denied for so long under her tutors iron fist rule.

"In which field dear?

"Potions"

Silently Amelia gasped, it was fate; it had to be. The school had been looking for a new potions teacher, after the sudden departure of the previous one towards the end of last term.

"Have you found a position yet?"

She shook her head_. _

Amelia couldn't explain what made her keep talking; her mind disconnected from what her heart was telling her.

"I'm Headmistress of Cackle's Academy for Witches. We're actually in need of a new potions teacher, if you are interested?"

She was lost for words. Her brown eyes softened as they filled with gratitude and joy "You … you want me?" she almost whispered the disbelief evident in her voice.

"Yes, you're obviously highly qualified and seem like you would be capable.

She opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by a blonde woman who appeared at the main doors with a clipboard in her hand, her chirpy tones announcing that all graduates were to proceed to the hall for the commencement of the ceremony.

"I should go" she quietly said. "It was lovely to meet you Miss Cackle"

"You too dear, and please, call me Amelia"

Reaching into her bag she pulled out a small prospectus on the Academy and handed it to her. "Here are some details about the school and what it offers, as well as its address and directions. The new term begins next month. I'll be seeing you soon."

Amelia stood up and walked away, she had gone to the WTC graduation ceremony to seek out a potential new teacher. It was one of the most prestigious colleges of magic in the country, so she knew it was likely she would find a candidate. And she had just found the perfect candidate. She couldn't say why; but she just knew.

XxX

After the ceremony was over she was finally free. As soon as she had stepped over the threshold and out of the grounds of WTC the feeling was overwhelming; her legs began to shake and she knew she would need to sit down before she fell. Carefully lowering herself onto the grass, she leant against the bark of the tree, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes; reaching into her handbag she retrieved her handkerchief to wipe them away before they fell.

She knew she was free to cry; no one could stop her now, but she'd spent so long suppressing her tears that she didn't know how to let them fall. As she took the handkerchief from her bag it caught the edge of the prospectus she'd been handed earlier in the day. Taking it out and smoothing out the slight creases, she looked at it properly for the first time. As she stared at it there was something eerily familiar about it; a sense of déjà vu, like she had been there before, but she knew that was impossible. Then the realisation struck her.

There on the front of the prospectus, was a picture of the school. It was a castle.

It was the castle from her dreams.

It was the castle of her dreams.


End file.
